


hoes before bros

by anja_c



Series: random one-shots [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bellarke Bingo, Drunk Bellamy Blake, Drunk kiss, Enemies to Lovers, Gryffindor Bellamy Blake, Jealous Clarke Griffin, Love Confessions, Slytherin Clarke Griffin, minor Murven, v fast paced, well more like frenemies who have the hots for each other to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anja_c/pseuds/anja_c
Summary: He slaps a hand over his heart, “you wound me.”“I’m sure your ego will recover.”He sucks in a breath, “oo, I dunno. Being insulted by a pretty girl is very bad for my self-esteem.”Clarke bites her lip,he’s extremely drunk. “Careful there, you just called me pretty.”“Oh don’t act surprised, everyone knows you’re the most gorgeous seventh year here – hell, you’re the most gorgeous person at this school, full stop. And probably the most gorgeous person in the whole world, if we’re being honest here.”She snickers, “I don’t think you’re going to remember any of this tomorrow.”“No,” he protest vehemently, “I will.”She smiles, “no, you won’t. Which is why I can do this.”





	hoes before bros

**Author's Note:**

> heyo, ya bitch is back with another bellarke bingo! this time it's a hogwarts au bc why tf not, right? the bellarke bingo prompt for this one was love confession and the whole fic kinda centres around it. it's also a little bit of a twist on the traditional love confession trope, bc y'all should know by now: that's just how i roll. i also wanted to tag it with "everyone thinks they're together but they aren't" but in mine it's more of a "everyone knows they aren't together but pretends they are just to piss them off" so i'm saving that prompt for another fic.
> 
> anyways, enjoy. also don't ask about the title, it was just what i saved this doc in my laptop as and i couldn't think of a good title so just,,, don't @ me, ok?  
>  ~~speaking of @ing people~~ , go check out my tumblr: [bellarke_trashh](https://bellarke-trashh.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO: would just like to say i take no creative credit for this idea, i read a fic (that i absolutely fucking loved, like honestly it was the cutest shit) based on this prompt and decided to do my own since i'm a sucker for hogwarts AUs. if you wanna go check out the other fic (which i _highly_ recommend) it's [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17850128)

Clarke sighs heavily, she really doesn’t know why she agreed to this. She _hates_ quidditch with a passion. As Jackson’s medical assistant in the hospital wing, Clarke is no stranger to the kind of danger contact sports like quidditch present. She’s patched up more than her fair share of broken bones, concussions, cuts, scrapes, bruises and other assorted ailments. Which is why, when Jasper asked her and Raven to take over for him and Monty as commentators, she flat-out refused. Then Raven cornered her and talked her into it – she may or may not have given assurances that Clarke would get to see Gryffindor captain Bellamy Blake shirtless.

“You’re terrible,” Clarke grumbled as Raven smiled wickedly.

“And you’re terribly in love,” she retorted.

“I’m not in love! I just think he’s nice to look at! He’s still an asshole!”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Griffin,” she sung, striding off.

Now Clarke stands outside the commentator’s box, regretting all the life choices that have gotten her to this point.

“You ready?” Diyoza smiles, inviting her to sit next to Raven.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“I’m supposed to do the whole ‘keep it G-rated, keep it quidditch-related, keep it professional’ spiel – but let’s be honest, the whole point of having commentators is for you guys to go off the rails and for me to pretend to be mad about it. Just remember that there _are_ eleven-year-olds in the crowd and you do have to remain _relatively_ unbiased and we should be all good.”

Raven nods, laughing whilst Clarke agrees to her terms.

“Who’s playing today?” she asks, missing the smirk Raven sends her.

“Slytherin versus Gryffindor – i.e. your team against your boyfriend’s team, should be fun.”

Clarke glares at Raven but the girl simply raises her hands in surrender, “swear on Merlin’s beard I didn’t tell her to say that.”

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” Clarke grumbles but Diyoza just rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. Just remember; eleven-year-olds, unbiased.”

Clarke doesn’t bother protesting any further, just turning to watch as the players strut out onto the field.

Raven speaks into her amplified wand, beginning their commentary. “Alrighty, welcome, welcome. I’m Raven Reyes, this is Clarke Griffin, and you’re watching Disney Channel.” A snicker goes through the muggle-borns of the crowd, as Raven whispers a quick _lumos_ and swishes her wand in what looks like a practised motion.

Clarke ignores her joke, rolling her eyes and beginning the _actual_ commentary. “The players are waltzing out onto the field and Gryffindor is looking cocky as always – meanwhile the Slytherin team exudes a cool grace, as is our trademark.”

Realising they have time to kill before the actual match starts, Clarke strikes up a conversation with her friend for the whole school to listen to. “Tell me, my good Ravenclaw, who are you cheering for this _fine_ day?” Raven lets out a laugh as grey clouds loom above, threatening to soak the players.

“Well, I gotta say, I’m torn. On the one hand, you are a Slytherin, but my boyfriend – say hi, Zeke – is a Gryffindor. But as old adage goes, ‘hoes before bros’ -” Diyoza snorts “- so I think I can officially confirm I am cheering for Slytherin today.”

“And not a moment too soon as the players begin to kick off – I gotta say, I’m not hating these new uniforms.”

“Neither am I, Griffin,” Raven muses, blatantly staring at Murphy’s ass, “neither am I. Speaking of attractive people, are you still engaged in a furious love-hate, will-they-won’t-they relationship with Gryffindor captain Bellamy Blake?”

“You mean do I still hate him and is he still desperately in love with me? Yes, I believe that continues to be our arrangement.”

From the field Clarke spots Bellamy flipping her off and she tsks. “Oh my, what immature, unprofessional behaviour from the Gryffindor captain there, that’s gotta be at least twenty points deduction.”

“At least.”

Kane stands in the middle of the field, yelling instructions before releasing the quaffle, two bludgers and finally, the golden snitch.

“And we’re off,” Raven whispers into her wand.

“Slytherin off to a mighty fine start as Chaser Ontari manages to pull her head out of her ass and actually participate – good on her – but she looks as if she’s about to be intercepted and oop! There it is! Gryffindor Chaser Zoe Monroe has the quaffle – Merlin’s beard, I love Monroe, she’s honestly such a stand-up gal, ya know?”

“I know exactly what you mean, Clarke. And here comes your man, ready to take the pass from Monroe and oh! Intercepted by none other than Cage Wallace himself. Somehow, the stuck-up asshole has managed a successful steal which is surprising considering he’s only on the team and still enrolled in school because his dad has bribed half the Ministr-”

“Reyes!” Diyoza scolds. “Watch yourself!”

“Sorry, folks,” Raven apologises into her wand, “it seems I’m not allowed to talk about that since Professor Diyoza clearly wants to keep her favourite student alive.”

“Raven,” Clarke warns. She’s distracted though by a goal being scored, “and that’s ten points for Gryffindor, goddamnit! C’mon, Charlotte, get your crap together and find the damn golden snitch!”

“Speaking of snitches, Emerson’s not looking too good on the field today, wonder why that is?”

Clarke shrugs nonchalantly, “who knows.”

“You know, I heard he walked in on you and Lexa Woods necking in the supply closet and then proceeded to tell the entire school, including your professors. Next day he was in the medical wing with a busted collar bone and vomiting up slugs.”

“Such a strange coincidence,” Clarke agrees solemnly.

“Talk about necking – I’m pretty sure professor Indra just busted Octavia and Lincoln getting busy in the stands.”

“Octavia Blake?” Clarke pipes up. “Oo, that’s gotta be a distraction for star Chaser, Bellamy Blake.”

“And there’s that distraction in action! Blake has just been hit by a wayward bludger sent by none other than John Murphy, although something tells me it wasn’t such an accident as he seems to be mouthing ‘get your fucking shit together, Blake’.”

“Helping the opposing team? Someone’s headed for a beating in the Slytherin common room tonight.”

“Mmm, definitely.”

“Girls!” Diyoza hangs her head in her hands.

“God, who knew bloody nose would be a good look on someone,” Clarke segues, watching Bellamy swipe his nose aggressively with his sleeve, sneering at Murphy and rising back into the air.

“Not me, that’s for sure. Although you do have a thing for the owner of said bloody nose, so there’s that.”

“Alright, I don’t have a thing for Bellamy Blake, thank you very much.”

“Clarke,” Raven says, putting on a mock-serious tone, “we’re not here to discuss your sex life, we’re here to discuss quidditch.”

“Oh, for the last time, we’re _aren’t_ having sex!”

“Yet,” Raven sings before Diyoza jerks a thumb to the field, alerting them to the resumed game, unable to summon the words to verbalise her disappointment.

“That was a _sweet_ goal from Blake that Mbege failed to block – unsurprisingly since he’s the worst keeper we’ve had since Salazar himself.”

“Clarke!” Raven scolds, “you know damn well Salazar was a great keeper!”

“You’re so right, Reyes. Oh, there he goes, stripping for the crowd.” Clarke watches eagerly – and somewhat guiltily – as Bellamy calls a time-out, with his nose bleeding unrelentingly, and immediately pulls his blood- and sweat-soaked shirt over his head.

“Clarke’s going to be seeing that image in her mind every night for the next week when she-”

“ _REYES!_ ” Diyoza bellows, snatching her wand off her.

Clarke snickers, “serves you right, idiot.” As she watches the team huddle though, she notices the way Bellamy shifts uncomfortably and – as much as she hates to admit it – she knows exactly what it means. He’s in pain, real bad pain, and he’s being a heroic idiot and trying to hide it.

Clarke turns to her friend, “I gotta go, hold up the fort for me, would you?”

Without another word, Clarke jumps from her seat and practically flies down the stairs, rushing out onto the field. She runs up to Bellamy and sees the damage Murphy did up close. Bellamy shoves her away at first.

“Don’t be a dick, Blake,” she huffs, “let me look at your damn nose.” He relents and her suspicion is confirmed, “yep, broken. Give me a moment.”

She pulls out her wand, muttering a quick healing spell before shoving his hands away to examine it again.

“Give a guy a warning next time,” he mutters grumpily, cradling it.

“Yeah, yeah.” His nose appears to be all fixed up. “You’re good to go, just keep an eye out for bludgers next time, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes, “how about you tell Murphy to get his ass in line.” Clarke doesn’t bring up the fact that they both know Murphy was only trying to help.

Clarke begins to waltz off but he calls her back. “And try and keep the commentary quidditch related, yeah?”

She smirks, “aw, is someone feeling sensitive about their big, fat crush on me?” He moves to protest but she cuts him off, placing a hand on his bare chest – _yeah, that was definitely necessary, Clarke_ – and leaning up to whisper in his ear, “don’t worry; if you win, maybe I’ll let you get some tonight.” She winks and strides off, laughing hysterically to herself. By the time she gets back up to the commentator’s box, Raven and Diyoza are giggling like school girls.

“The fuck did you do to Blake?” Raven asks.

Diyoza suddenly looks serious for a moment, “for the love of god, please tell me you didn’t hex him. That’s grounds for expulsion, and then I’d be obligated to tell Headmaster Jaha and I’d really like to not be fired when they find out I didn’t go to Jah-”

“I didn’t hex him,” she grins wickedly, watching him mount his broom, mind clearly elsewhere, “I just distracted him a little. This should be fun,” she echoes Dizoya’s earlier statement.

Raven returns her grin, taking her wand back from Diyoza, “and we’re back. Clarke and Bellamy appear to have had a heart-to-heart when she went to examine his nose – and his abs-”

Clarke cuts her off with a jab to the ribs, “I simply told him to pull his head in and watch out for bludgers. Now, the players are rising, it looks like the game’s about to resume. Here we go, a strong pass from Shaw to Blake but it’s intercepted by Emerson of all people. Honestly, Blake, I love my house – I do – but we don’t exactly have the best quidditch team this year. This is actually a little embarrassing for him, don’t you agree, Raven.”

“Extremely embarrassing,” she nods seriously. “I wonder why he’s so distracted, what could possibly have happened in that short time-out to make him so rattled?”

“It really is a mystery.”

“ _Girls_ ,” Diyoza grinds out, “let’s refocus, Slytherin just scored another goal!”

“There we go!” Clarke cheers, “that’s what I’m talking about! Silver and Green! The quaffle’s back in play and – for the love of god, Raven, stop having eye-sex with Shaw, he needs to defend his team’s goal!”

“Do you want Slytherin to win, or what?”

Clarke rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “the quaffle is in Slytherin possession and the scores are tied at seventy.”

“It’s shaping up to be a pretty boring game, honestly.”

“It really is.”

“The most interesting that’s happened today is the fact that Blake keeps shooting you secret looks when he thinks you’re not looking.”

Clarke ignores Raven’s teasing as the Gryffindor Seeker suddenly nose dives, “there goes Madi Louwada, she’s spiralling downwards _very_ quickly and it is _very_ concerning.” Clarke worries that she’s lost control of her broom but she pulls up at the last minute, zooming just a foot above the grass with Charlotte hot on her heels. “Oh! And she pulls up at the last minute! Charlotte Jones nearly sent hurtling to the ground! You know what this means, Raven!”

“I do! We’ve had a snitch sighting! Charlotte’s catching up – Wallace’s dad’s money is coming in handy here as Slytherin’s superior broom selection has given her a boost of speed.”

“The girls are neck and neck, it’s anyone’s game right now.”

“Slytherin uses the distraction to their advantage, scoring another goal!”

A triumphant cheer goes through the red and yellow side of the crowd. “And Madi Louwada is pulling up and she appears to have the golden snitch in her hands!”

“It’s a crushing defeat for Slytherin,” Raven notes, “and I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone I was cheering for Gryffindor the whole time.”

“Traitor,” Clarke rolls her eyes. “There’s going to be a hell of a celebration in the Gryffindor common room tonight.”

Raven smirks, “should I expect to see you there? I assume you’ve made some promises that you’ll have to make good on?”

Clarke smiles conspiratorially, “now, now, Reyes, remember the rules; keep it G-rated.”

“Yeah, you two crossed that line about eight sex jokes ago,” Diyoza pipes up and the girls burst out into hearty chuckles.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Raven sings.

“Yeah, yeah,” Diyoza rolls her eyes, patting them on the back, “go on, get outa here.” She turns to Clarke, “go congratulate your boyfriend.”

“You know Raven’s actually the one with a boyfriend on the Gryffindor team? You guys haven’t forgotten about Shaw, have you?”

“Zeke’s a great kid,” Diyoza shrugs, “but I’d put money on the fact that those two won’t last longer than three months – not with the way Raven looks at that Slytherin beater.”

Clarke’s eyes widen, “McCreary?!”

Raven jumps up, “Merlin, no! _Murphy_.”

Clarke drops the surprised act, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

Raven catches on, “oh, you little shi-”

“You admitted it!” Clarke cheers, drowing out Raven’s protest, “You admitted you have a crush on Murphy!”

“Shut up,” she grumbles as the girls head downstairs.

\---

“Clarkey!” Raven coos, running over to wrap her best friend in a spine-crushing bear hug.

“You’re drunk,” Clarke says softly.

“A little,” the other girl admits. “I broke up with Zeke, though!”

“Oh?”

She nods, “yeah, I told him that I’m really sorry but my heart’s just not in it and he told me he’d kind of noticed and he was actually going to break up with _me_.”

“Oh, wow.” Clarke doesn’t know whether to be happy or sad for her friend, the wide grin on her face alludes to further details though. “What did you do after that?”

She chuckles, uncurling her arms from Clarke’s neck and turtling in. “I kissed Murphy!”

“You did what?”

“I went down to the Slytherin common room to find you, but you weren’t there, Murphy was. So I told him everything because I was already a little tipsy by that point, and then I accidentally told him the _reason_ my heart wasn’t in it. And then I kissed him.”

“And?”

“And he kissed me back. And then we kinda maybe went upstairs and had sex in his bedroom.”

“Raven!” Clarke scolds, but she’s smiling too. “That was very fast, no? Didn’t you only just finally admit your real feelings this morning?”

“Yeah, but I roll fast, you know that, Griffin!” Clarke rolls her eyes. “But, now it’s your turn!”

“My turn?” she asks, puzzled.

“To tell the guy you’re in love with that you have feelings for him.”

Clarke shakes her head, “I’m not in love with anyone.”

Raven ignores her protest. “Speak of the devil,” she whispers way too loudly.

Clarke turns to see Bellamy approaching proudly, swaying a little – clearly drunk too. “Aw, don’t tell me you were talking about me?”

“No, no,” Clarke explains, smirking, “Raven meant the _actual_ devil; as in, you’re evil.”

He slaps a hand over his heart, “you wound me.”

“I’m sure your ego will recover.”

He sucks in a breath, “oo, I dunno. Being insulted by a pretty girl is _very_ bad for my self-esteem.”

Clarke bites her lip, _he’s extremely drunk_. “Careful there, you just called me pretty.”

“Oh don’t act surprised, everyone knows you’re the most gorgeous seventh year here – hell, you’re the most gorgeous person at this school, full stop. And probably the most gorgeous person in the whole world, if we’re being honest here.”

She snickers, “I don’t think you’re going to remember any of this tomorrow.”

“No,” he protests vehemently, “I will.”

She smiles, “no, you won’t. Which is why I can do this.”

She leans up, snaking a hand around the back of his neck and burying it in his hair, pulling him down to meet her lips. The kiss is sloppy and pretty chaste since he’s completely off his face, but it’s still easily one of the best kisses Clarke’s had. _Ok, maybe she likes him a_ little _bit_. She pulls away finally, and he leans forward, as if trying to follow her.

“I’m definitely going to remember that,” he informs her.

She shakes her head, knowing he won’t. “Well, you tell me tomorrow if you do, ok?”

\---

Clarke walks into History of Magic the next day to see Professor Becca already at the board, writing notes, as usual. She moves to take her usual seat next to Raven but there’s someone else sitting there. She realises with some amount of shock that it’s Murphy.

“Hey, Griffin,” he calls, “sorry, it looks like you’re going to have to take my seat next to Blake.”

Clarke goes rigid, suddenly remembering last night. After _that_ happened, she’d gone and drunk herself into a stupor in an effort to forget it. It didn’t work apparently. He was _significantly_ drunker than her though, so she’s still holding out hope that he’s forgotten everything.

She swallows her pride, placing her books next to Bellamy’s and taking her seat. “Good party last night?”

He snorts unattractively – who’s she kidding, everything he does is attractive. “You’d know.”

She pales, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

Clarke realises that he mustn’t remember and she lets out the breath she didn’t realise she’s been holding. “Yeah, sorry I bailed, wasn’t really in the party mood.” Better he think she’s a flake than a tart.

“Guess it’s true what they say, then,” he says coldly.

“And what’s that?” she asks conspiratorially, trying to inject some humour into the situation.

“You Slytherins really are too stuck-up to associate with us lowly Gryffindors.” There’s none of the familiar teasing in his tone, just an iciness that Clarke hasn’t heard directed at her since their first year.

The rest of the day passes with absolute radio silence, it’s unsettling for everyone. Usually, not a day goes by without Clarke and Bellamy getting into an argument in the hallways – almost always ending with Clarke having to take an emergency shift in the hospital wing and both of them in detention (which just ends in more hexes flying). But it’s all good-natured. This is different, Clarke can feel it. So can everyone else apparently, as the fiftieth first year runs up to her to ask what happened.

“Beat it,” she snarls, “before I turn you into a quill for me to finish studying for my N.E.W.T.s with.”

The kid scrambles off and Clarke hears a familiar voice scolding her. “Threatening a first year? That’s gotta be at least a twenty point deduction from Slytherin.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, traitor?” Clarke grins as Madi runs up to hug her. They had met in Hogsmeade when Clarke was just a second year and Madi had been homeless, sleeping out the back of Three Broomsticks. Clarke had brought her back and managed to hide her in the room of requirement, stealing her food from the kitchen for three months before Diyoza found her. Diyoza had convinced Jaha to hire Madi as a magical creatures assistant until she was old enough to start school. Now Madi’s a second year herself and one of the youngest keepers on the Gryffindor quidditch team in over one hundred years.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” Madi tells her firmly, “what the hell’s going on between you and Blake?”

“What do you mean?” Clarke asks, playing dumb, “Octavia and I are fine.”

Madi rolls her eyes, “you know exactly which Blake I mean.”

“Ooohhh,” Clarke fakes an epiphany, “you mean _Bellamy_. You should really be clearer with your words. I hope you’re not this vague with your spells.”

“C’mon, Clarke.”

She tries to brush Madi off, “we’ve always had beef, that’s old news.” The other girl doesn’t budge though.

“Clarke,” she warns.

She relents, “fine! We may have… had a moment… at the celebration party last night.”

“Define ‘moment’.”

“We kissed,” she clarified, not meeting the girl’s eyes.

“That’s awesome, though, isn’t it? I don’t see how that equates to you two not speaking. You should be banging in a supply closet somewhere, not avoiding each other in the halls with him sending you hurt looks every two seconds.”

“Madi!”

“What? It’s true!”

She shakes her head, _god, she’s a terrible influence on Madi_. “He doesn’t remember, ok? He thinks I flirted with him during the game and then just didn’t even show at the party.”

“And what, you corrected him but he didn’t believe you?”

She hangs her head guiltily, “not exactly. I may have just let him believe it.”

“Jesus Christ, Clarke! Get your shit together already!”

“Hey! Language, missy!”

“Oh, please, you were much worse at my age – don’t try to deny it, Raven’s told me stories.”

Clarke scowls, she’s going to kill her best friend.

“Seriously though, Clarke, what are you even waiting for? Run to your man!”

“C’mon, Madi, it’s not like that.”

Madi sighs frustratedly, “you’re kidding, right?”

“What?”

“You just said that you already kissed.”

“He was _so_ drunk though, he probably didn’t even know who I was. He probably thought I was fucking Echo or something…” she mumbles to herself, but even she knows it’s not true. He knew exactly who she was when it happened. The more she thinks about it actually, she’s pretty sure he may have confessed to having feelings for her last night. He’d called her ‘ _the most gorgeous person in the whole world, if we’re being honest here_ ’. Although he’d been talking in general terms, as in, that’s how _everyone_ sees her – which is not true, she thinks to herself, but that’s besides the point – not how _he_ sees her. Who’s she even trying to convince anymore? Bellamy flat-out drunkenly declared his love for her and she kissed him and then walked off.

“Ooohhhhhh,” Clarke’s eyes widen with a sudden realisation, “he _does_ remember.”

“What?”

“Madi, I have to go,” Clarke rambles.

“What? Now?”

“Now,” she confirms, already running out the door.

Clarke knows exactly where she’s going, knows exactly where Bellamy goes when he’s moping.

She bursts through the door to the owlery, Bellamy turns, startled. “Clarke? What are you doing here?”

“I knew you’d be hiding out here.”

He shoves past her roughly but she stops him, panting, “wait! For the love of all things holy! I just ran up like… at least eighty flights of stairs for you, please just, just listen.”

He doesn’t reply, simply standing a little straighter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You remember.”

“Remember what?”

“The party. Last night.”

He visibly pales, before schooling his expression, “yeah, but you’d rather not so just… don’t worry about it, ok? It’s forgotten.”

“No! No, I don’t want it to be forgotten!”

His eyebrows furrow in that familiar way, “you don’t?”

“No,” she confirms, shaking her head, “I thought _you_ forgot. I thought you forgot and you were just mad because I didn’t show at your stupid party.”

“It was not a _stupid_ party.” Trust him to focus on _that_.

“It was; you won a quidditch game, you didn’t get into Harvard,” he moves to protest but she cuts him off, rambling, “but that’s not the point! Just- just… you weren’t mad because you thought I didn’t show, you were mad because you basically admitted you’re in love with me and then I kissed you and practically told you to just forget about it.”

He grumbles, “I mean I think that’s a bit strongly worded, I didn’t say I was in lov-”

She cuts him off again, this time leaning up to kiss the words off his lips. If Clarke thought last night’s kiss was special, this is something else entirely. It’s the kind of kiss that sends her head spinning and makes her see stars.

He pulls away to whisper against her lips, “I’d like to take this opportunity to retract my earlier statement about not being in lo-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Bellamy Blake.”

“Ok,” he mumbles as she cards her fingers through his bouncy curls, and pulls his head back down to hers. Clarke gets swept up in the kiss, practically losing feeling in her legs as he walks them both. To where, she doesn’t know. The cold brick of the wall behind her slamming into her back wakes her up a little. She tilts her head up, breaking the kiss. He dips his, lips finding the hot skin of her jaw and tracing gentle patterns all the way down to her collar bone.

“Hey,” she calls, grabbing a fistful of his hair and gently pulling his head up to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure I made you a promise… something to do with quidditch and getting some.”

She smirks as he swallows. “Are you sure?” he murmurs into her neck and her toes curl. She’s never been more sure about anything. She tells him as much and the next thing she can remember, they’re stumbling down the hallway to the dungeons, stopping every so often when he crowds her up against a wall because the four minute walk is simply just too long to wait to touch her again. After they get caught by Professor Indra, who looks less than impressed at busting another Blake sibling for making out in less than twenty-four hours, Clarke grabs his hand and drags him as they run the rest of the way back to her room.

They burst in, Clarke stumbling backwards to her bed and Bellamy in hot pursuit.

“Um… excuse me,” Ontari jumps up. Clarke was so wrapped up in the _Bellamy_ of it all that she forgot she actually has roommates. Thankfully, Raven is out. Ontari is not though.

Clarke pulls away from Bellamy just long enough to say, “listen, I’ve been waiting seven years for this shit. This is happening whether or not you leave.” Clarke doesn’t even pause to watch the girl leave, turning back to flip over and straddle Bellamy. She hears the door shut behind her though and grins.

“Seven years, huh?” he asks, brow tilted teasingly.

Clarke smirks, “now, now, Blake, watch your ego. You might start thinking I fancy you or something.”

“Too late.”

She smiles, “good.”

\---

Four months later

Clarke settles herself in her seat, getting ready to commentate the next game. She’s never liked quidditch, but she’s begun to love talking about it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact she gets to sit and chat to her best friend about her super hot boyfriend and his superior quidditch skills.

“Now how are you on this fine day, Reyes?” Clarke asks into her wand.

“Frankly, I’m pretty freaking fantastic. How about you?”

“You know what? I’m about the same.”

“Does your brilliant mood have anything to do with the fact that your boyfriend is currently striding out onto the field wearing pants so tight you can see his ass from up here.”

“Maybe. Does your good mood have anything to do with the fact your boyfriend is wearing the exact same pants?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Alright, girls,” Diyoza sighs, “clean it up, would you?”

“Aw but, _miss_!” Raven whines. “I was just about to ask Clarke if Bellamy has any pre-game rituals that she helps with!”

Clarke elbows her and Diyoza just hangs her head. “Honestly though, girls, we have some guests from Beauxbatons here today, _please_ don’t get me fired.”

Clarke grins, “we’ll try, professor.”

“Guests from Beauxbatons?” Raven asks brightly, before turning to speak into her wand. “Welcome! I’ve just been informed that we have guests, how exciting! You all get to see Bellamy Blake’s nice ass too! Don’t try and ask him out though, he has a girlfriend and she _will_ hex you six ways from Sunday.”

Clarke snorts, “thanks, Raven.” The players begin mounting their brooms and kicking off and Clarke switches to her commentator voice, “alright, it looks like things are about to start. Just to remind you, it’s Slytherin against Gryffindor today.”

“And folks, this is a biggun.”

“Indeed, our lovely ladies and lads are playing for keeps. This is for the Quidditch Cup. It’s also an important one for respective team captains, John Murphy and Bellamy Blake, as it’s their last game of Hogwarts quidditch.”

“Oh my god,” Raven whispers, “I just realised… we’re _those_ girls.”

“Hmm?”

The brunette turns to Clarke, eyes blown wide like she’s seen a ghost. “Our boyfriends are the head captains of their quidditch teams, we’re _those girls_.”

Clarke figures this must be a muggle thing so she just shrugs. “C’mon, Reyes, get your head in the game, it’s about to start.”

The game starts off pretty mundane, each team scoring a few goals, no noticeable snitch sightings.

It’s been going for an hour and a half and Bellamy honestly looks about ready to call it. Raven’s still continuing with her snarky commentary, fuelled by her and Murphy’s eye-sex. Clarke’s given up and is just literally saying what’s happening – which is technically what they were supposed to be doing this whole time, she realises.

“Oh, and it looks like Gryffindor captain Bellamy Blake is calling a time-out. Wise move, his players look _absolutely drained_. So do the Slytherin players, except for Murphy who just looks honestly so damn-”

“Don’t… finish that sentence,” Diyoza snaps.

Clarke laughs before noticing a bunch of the Beauxbatons girls running onto the field with towels and water for the players. She glares at their skimpy short skirts, _how fucking cliché, wearing cheerleader outfits to a sports game_.

She turns to Raven, making sure to cover her wand, “can you fucking believe them?”

Raven’s face goes from one of nonchalance to anger as she sees one of the girls obviously flirting with Murphy, he really doesn’t seem to be into it at all but in matters such as these, things like logic and common sense have never stopped Raven before. “Fuck ‘em up,” she tells Clarke.

Clarke nods, running down onto the field. She immediately surges towards Bellamy who is shifting uncomfortably. His expression softens when he sees her.

“Oh, thank god,” he runs to meet her, wrapping his hands around her waist and bringing her in for a kiss.

One very brave or very stupid girl follows him, she opens her mouth to say something but Clarke turns, snapping. “One word, sweetie,” she warns the girl angrily, “one fucking word.” The girl slinks back, a defeated expression on her face.

Clarke turns back to face Bellamy who is wearing a smug grin on his.

“What?” she asks dumbly.

He smirks, “you were totally ready to kill that girl.”

“I still am,” she grumbles. Clarke has never thought of herself as the possessive type, but the sight of Bellamy surrounded by all these stupid Beauxbatons girls with their ridiculously short skirts and their low-cut tops makes her blood boil.

“Jealous?” he asks with way too much cockiness in his voice.

This time, Clarke doesn’t have the energy to try and knock him down a peg. “Just a little,” she remarks sarcastically.

He grins, “it’s a good look on you.”

She rolls her eyes, “go on, don’t you have a quidditch game to lose?”

His eyebrows raise, “ _excuse_ me?”

She smirks back, teasing, “what? Did you think just because I was putting out for you, I’d start cheering against my own house? That reminds me – Murphy,” she calls, “Raven says if you win this thing, she’ll wear that maid’s outfit you bought for her as a joke gift last year.” He swallows, turning back to address his teammates with more resolve than before.

“What do _I_ get if I win?” Bellamy jokes.

Clarke leans on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “if you win, maybe I’ll let you get some tonight.”

He laughs, remembering the last time she said that. “Hey, if I remember correctly, you ended up making good on that promise – to be fair, it was a day later, but still. Point is, I’m _definitely_ holding you to it this time.”

“Oh, I would expect nothing less.” She grins, turning back to get off the pitch before the game starts back up again, but he stops her, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her back towards him. He crowds her up into and all-encompassing kiss and she sighs against his lips.

“What was that for?” she murmurs when they part.

“For luck, for me. Also I wanted to say something and I had to do that, just in case it’s the last time I’m allowed to.”

She looks up at his big brown eyes, so filled with vulnerability. “Hey, you can tell me anything, you know?” She reaches a hand up to stroke his cheek reassuringly and he leans into it.

“I just wanted to say…”

She nods, prompting him.

“We’re going to absolutely destroy you guys,” he tells her, the biggest smirk on his face.

“You asshole!” she yells, shoving his chest, but she’s not mad. _Well, not really_. “You had me so worried, I thought you were going to tell me you had a fucking kid or some crazy shit like th-”

“Also I love you.”

She stops dead, trying to process his words.

“I know we've only been dating four months but I just had to let it out, I love you.”

She feels the smile that creeps up her face, she reckons she looks absolutely _ridiculous_ right now but she doesn’t even care. “I love you too,” she tells him, still grinning like a little girl.

Pike’s voice snaps them out of the little bubble they had built, “c’mon, Blake! Stop making goo-goo eyes and get in here and play!”

“Coming, coach,” Bellamy yells over his shoulder, not breaking eye-contact with Clarke.

“You better go before Pike comes up here and kicks me off the field for distracting Gryffindor’s star player.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Bellamy growls, and Clarke laughs. “Besides, you’re always distracting, whether you’re on the field or not.”

“Oh yeah? Am I distracting when I’m doing my commentary?”

He rolls his eyes, “honestly? Yeah, extremely. Especially when you talk about my ass in front of the whole school.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she winks, finally walking off to go back up into the stands.

When the game resumes, she and Raven continue their commentary with renewed fervour. Clarke makes sure to drop in several comments about “that Gryffindor captain’s sweet, sweet ass”. She watches him blush every time, smirking to herself. _She could get used to this_.


End file.
